Buy at: http://eronfalbo.bandcamp.com/
More at: www.eronfalbo.com/

"In life we end up exchanging fantasies for destiny. I believe suffering is the resistance those fantasies create. As we learn about the rules of the world the resistance wanes and the result is similar to that of our first whim, we fly. Only this time we fly higher than anything we could've imagined on our own. So we easily give up what we could've been for what we truly are." 

What I Could've Been

The glorious poetic spheres of consciousness 
In bayonets and broken corsets 
Led me to believe I wouldn't be 
All I could be outside the military. 
Ah, but i didn't want to fight 
For broken empires in disguise, 
Nor behind no country. 
I wanted siege upon protections of a city, 
Become a general before the age of twenty. 
Aaah, what a pity! 
I could've realised, I should've foreseen! 
What I could've been, what I could've been! 

Ah, the tolling bells that call the minds 
To come and find the answers they'll forget tonight, 
The sheer delight, the sight of empty halls, 
Grafittied walls of dirty bathroom stalls, 
Create the visions in the slumbered stares, 
That can prove nothing and can go nowhere. 
They will travel alone, 
Pointed directions that can never be shown, 
But by the many faces masked of the unknown, 
And the surrender to the sweet silent tone. 
I could've realised! I should've foreseen! 
What I could've been, what I could've been 

The dangling conversation, 
Imaginations of the everlasting strangers, 
Complaining of the crimes, 
Protesting sighs beyond their non peculiar times: 
"Women's rights are misogyny revived, 
A brand of slavery just newly contrived" 
But I hold no opinion, 
Of new confederates losing battles to new unions, 
Or new religions slaying children for dominion. 
Let me just concentrate on making my first million. 
Let me not realise, what I could've foreseen 
That I could've been, what I could've been! 

Ah to control the mess of obviousness, 
Of the smooth caress and daily stress of princesses, 
I'd give my soul to know the cold 
Of hands oppressed by promises too old. 
Oh, but I could so easily tell, 
That my lips kissed the bars of a cell, 
Of sweet abundance, 
I would abandon for a partner in the dance, 
Like an old king protecting borders from the Lanc- 
Elot of fear that would forbid that king a chance. 
To have realised, to have foreseen... 
What he could've been, what I could've been!

Released: 3 September, 2013

Written By: Eron Falbo
Executive Producer: Tony Kosinec 
Producer: Bob Johnston
Recording Studio : Dark Horse Recording (2008.11.14 - Nashville, USA) 
Mastering: Lacquer Channel Mastering (2013.08.07 - Toronto, Canada)
Art Work: Erik Judson

What I Could've Been

Buy at: http://eronfalbo.bandcamp.com/
More at: www.eronfalbo.com/

"I think it was Paul Valery who said that 'A poem is never finished, only abandoned'. So I picked up another's abandonment and abandoned it further down the line. Isn't that what we're always doing with human progress? I changed the lyrics around to suit our sophisticated reality. I made it less personal. I removed the cynical laid-back blues and made a Stooges cover out of the version. It was fun to record and it's fun to play live."

I Found Out

I told you before stay away from my door. 
Don't give me that brother, brother, brother. 

The freaks on the net have been sending me threats, 
So don't give me that "brother, brother, brother," 
I found out. 

I haven't showed you what I can do, 
So don't take nobody's word for what I've been through. 
There ain't no Jesus gonna come from no stage, 
Now that I found out I've broken the cage. 
I found out. 

Some of you sitting there with my cock in your hand, 
Don't get you nowhere don't make you a man. 
I'll tell you something 'bout my ma and my pa, 
I couldn't see them so I became a star. 
I found out. 

Old Ayhuaska got nothing on you, 
Just keep you crazy with nothing to do. 
Keep you busy sedated on the pie in the sky. 
There ain't no Guru who can see thru your eyes. 
I found out. 

I been through junkies I been through it all, 
I've seen religion from Crowley to Mao. 
Don't let them fool you with dope and cocaine, 
Can't do you no harm to just feel your own pain. 
I found out.

Released: 3 September, 2013

Written By: John Lennon and Eron Falbo
Executive Producer: Tony Kosinec 
Producer: Laurie Grandi
Recording Studio : Konk Studios (2011.07.07 - London, UK)
Mastering: Lacquer Channel Mastering (2013.08.07 - Toronto, Canada)
Art Work: Walker Fee

I Found Out

Buy at: http://eronfalbo.bandcamp.com/
More at: www.eronfalbo.com/

"One day my mum visited me at my London flat, I think it was New Year's. She stayed for a few days and when she left she left behind a photo of herself in a place she knew I'd find. In the photo she had hair (while in reality her hair was falling due to Cancer). On the back of the photo there was a message that said something like, "You are a warrior and should never be overcome, march on, son! Everything will be alright!" This made me feel ashamed for having ever doubted the benevolent force that is behind everything. After that I would only show myself strong and look after my mother, so I wrote this song for her and for the eternal force I had abandoned."

It'll All Be Fine

Working so hard and sometimes waiting for you to make me understand 
Been dodging bullets and I've been saving trains, with the palm of my hand 

Ive hung my head down thinking, all day long 
I've even taken down the sacred tree, just to hear your song 

"If you are ready to go 
Then you already know 
That it'll all be fine" 

"If you arrive some day 
I'm sure you'll hear me say 
That it'll all be fine" 

It'll all be fine, 
It'll all be groovy, won't it, babe? 

Been commanding armies for you, like a big bad man 
Been signing treaties, erecting buildings, NGO's, at your command 

As you can see, I can still bleed, but it's all for you 

I'm gonna die someday, I'll never hear you say 
The lyrics to your tune 

If you are ready to go 
Then you already know 
That it'll all be fine 

When you arrive some day 
I'm sure I'll hear you say 
That it'll all be fine 

It'll all be fine, 
It'll all be fine, 
It'll All be fine 

It'll all be fine 
It'll all be fine 
It will all, all, all

Released: 3 September, 2013

Written By: Eron Falbo
Executive Producer: Tony Kosinec 
Producer: Laurie Grandi
Recording Studio : Konk Studios (2011.07.07 - London, UK)
Mastering: Lacquer Channel Mastering (2013.08.07 - Toronto, Canada)
Art Work: Leysan

It'll All Be Fine

The Night

Eron Falbo

Have Me Too (On the Prowl)

The Posted Sign

The Lonely Man

The lonely man computes the price of airport parking in his travel finance.
The lonely man acts before a promise.

The lonely man sits dreamless in hotel rooms when friends offer solace in a luxurious home.
The lonely man turns off his phone.

The lonely man can never yammer.
The lonely man wears pyjamas.

The lonely man wakes up in a lonely business suit.
The lonely man can shoot.

The lonely man allows beautiful women to roam free.
The lonely man plants a tree.

The lonely man does not interfere with the confused
The lonely man is bruised.

The lonely man expresses not opinions on justice
The lonely man eats Dijon mustard

The lonely man does not wait to die before preparing his casket
And in the epicentre of his dinner table lies a fresh fruit basket.

The lonely man is never lonely
And he never makes instant macaroni.

The lonely man can cook.
The lonely man writes books.

The lonely man embraces the entire world
The lonely man takes showers cold.

The lonely man sits the dance out even though he is a master of Tango
The lonely man digs Django.

The lonely man has many brothers
Though as lonely is no other.

The lonely man is only tired from work he benefits from
The lonely man leaves behind bread crumbs

The lonely man’s social needs are overcome
Yet in a party he is a whole lot of fun.

The lonely man sits in the park bench somewhere
Even now he’s there.

The Lonely Man

Beyond this carrot,
Above the activism of the perfect world you keep under your bed
With rainbows on the ceiling and ponies flying across the wall

In the endless platform between the many trains we take unknowingly
The shame that binds every moment we fake unwillingly

The fame of the sailor who explores the depths of the darkest sea
The female aviator who sells wonder tonic to 1920’s me
The shrink who broke another paradigm
Some guy in a balloon somewhere
Holding the wrinkles of another immortal rhyme
It goes unnoticed by some, but is embraced by all

Beyond this carrot
We are taking in things essential for the birth of galaxies
We are being consumed by passions we never had the imagination to conceive
We are being moved by dark matter, or quark blabber, or any nihilistic foundation stone,
Built in the place between all things that bother to pretend to stop anywhere.

It is beyond this carrot
Where there was ever any art
Any glory in a cause
Any meaning in the denial of automatic lust
Any invincible roulette game to bust
And all for what?

For what is beyond this carrot.
In the arms of the stranger that you once denied.
The gentleman you turned your face from.
The prince you told your son to avoid.
The religious nutcase, the atheist without a choice
All the children who are yearning to be fed only by you.

Now look again,
Look again under your bed,
It is beyond this carrot.

Beyond This Carrot

Hello Universe, is anyone there?
I need some feedback beyond this amplifier that I control.
I need to know there’s someone else there.
I need someone to tell me a piece of some real news,
Someone to answer questions beyond the predictable responses of my own silly provocations.

Oh there you are, and how do I know you’re not me?
That I just didn’t forget you some drunken night?
That the things you say aren’t trapped in some mould that I created in mischievous infancy.
How do I know I didn’t spin a strategic spider web in all the frontiers of what you are claiming this day?

How come nothing surprising ever happens?
How come no fireworks ever become continents in the sky that we can visit with rocket launchers?
How do you explain that?
How do I know I didn’t write the book that says that very thing?

Wow, what’s that thing over there?
It’s fascinating, it’s wonderful, it’s… Ah, it’s you again!
I thought I told you to stay out of my way.
How do I know you didn’t just take my key and stalk me and copy me and read my diary?
How do I know you’re even there?
Ah, who knows?

Who Knows?

The ones titled with [Mastered] or [Unmastered] at the end are Official Studio Recordings

The ones simply titled with [Rehearsal] were recorded without a conscious effort.

The ones titled with [Rehearsal Demo] were recorded consciously, albeit during a rehearsal.

www.eronfalbo.com

Eron Falbo

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